


echo of a reflection

by MahoganyDoodles



Series: The F/F Compendium [7]
Category: The Haunting of Bly Manor (TV)
Genre: Aging, Drowning, F/F, Fix-It, I honestly can't believe I'm tagging it that considering the other tags lmao, I know the tags are sad but trust me it's an hopeful and uplifting ending!, Introspection, Jamie-centric, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Suicide, end of life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28078869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MahoganyDoodles/pseuds/MahoganyDoodles
Summary: In her time musing, the barren gardens had fallen behind her, as had the weathered stone of the chapel. Everything lay behind her now. All that laid before was her future. Her future, and Dani.
Relationships: Dani Clayton/Jamie
Series: The F/F Compendium [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1992142
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	echo of a reflection

It was a cold September morn on the day she returned to Bly. Gone were the neat hedges and rows of flowers that lined the manor in Jamie’s day; they had been for many years now, and in their place lay fallow ground. It didn’t bother Jamie, though. There were dead things in the church and dead things in the ground and dead things in the lake, and yet the very air of Bly had an energy she had yet to find anywhere else. As if the manor itself were alive. 

And because Jamie knew better than the townspeople who associated only death with the manor, she knew it to be true. After all, it was not her past that haunted her at Bly. It was the future that had been taken from her. 

Still, the past haunted her. It haunted her in reflection. Of water, of mirrors, of her life. The signs were there, every time she looked. Perhaps she imagined it, but the ghost of a face followed wherever she went: a face with mismatched eyes, blonde hair, and kindness etched into her expression. It was so different from hers now, of course. While her specter’s face was smooth with the years taken from her and peaceful with what had passed, her own was weathered with the years she had lived and peaceful with what had yet to come. 

The years she had were good, she supposed. There were the first that she chose to ignore. They were years that had happened around her, and not years that had happened to her. The latter happened when she was allowed to make choices for herself, rather than bear the choices of a mother. Those years began when she planted her first flower. 

After that, her time at Bly was smooth. Of course, there were times she felt the prickle on the back of her neck, or questioned the antics of the children, or felt the sharp burn of Peter Quill’s gaze, wondering how he could use her to his advantage. But the predominant feeling of those years was contentment with her lot in life, and besides one horrible night at the end, she could not have asked for more. 

And yet, she got it. She got five years of unconditional love. She got five years in America, tending flowers while their love blossomed. She got five years of Dani. 

It wasn’t easy all the time. Nothing ever is. But even the bad moments were treasured: when Dani covered up her fears, the monthly struggle to pay rent on their shop, their chilly apartments and leaky faucets. All of them, however frustrating at the time, were memories Jamie would never trade. 

The years after were hard. That, Jamie could not deny. How does one accept condolences for a situation her neighbors would never understand, no matter their assurances that they did? They looked at her with pity in their eyes, and Jamie could see the reproach hidden there. The judgment. They made their assumptions of what had happened to Dani, and no matter the corrections that clawed to leave Jamie’s throat, she could not allow them out. There were precious few people Jamie could tell the truth, and those that she could already knew. But what should it matter? Even if her neighbors were right (which they weren’t, how could they be?), it did not matter why Dani took her own life so another would not. If it were for the reason they supposed, it would be no more Dani’s fault. Hidden enemies were difficult to fight, and most difficult were the ones trapped within you, however literal Dani had suffered the matter. Dani had done what she had done with others in mind, as she always had.

And it was that knowledge that guided Jamie in those years. It was her anchor in the days, months,  _ years _ the scar on her heart took to form. Maybe it was better that she had known the tearing of her soul would come one day. Maybe it was worse.

Nevertheless, it did scar, and with scarring comes healing; she could still feel the thick tissue over her heart, the protection against further hurt. She was stronger and able to hold those she loved tight, to cherish the time she spent with them until she could spend no more. 

Her time had come. Bones creaked when she walked and her sight failed her, but she had strength enough for this. Two moments had defined her life: Dani Clayton entering it, and Dani Clayton leaving it. Now, _ she _ would define this final chapter.

In her time musing, the barren gardens had fallen behind her, as had the weathered stone of the chapel. Everything lay behind her now. All that laid before was her future. 

The black waters of the lake were smooth, the tiniest ripples reaching the shore as if something had disturbed the surface some time ago. To walk the grounds of the manor, she was sure, although she had seen not a trace of blonde hair.

Behind her, soft footfalls against the grass made her look back at a familiar figure, one that remained carved unchanged in her memory, when she had changed so much. 

She was still quite a distance away, walking as slow as ever. She saw Jamie, she was sure. For a moment Jamie froze, wondering if she had ill-timed this venture. Wondered whether she would have to try again, even as she waded into the dark water, the ripples rising to her ankles, then her calves, then her knees and her waist. 

But the figure behind her did not run. She did not cry out or extend a hand to hold her back. Because Dani was also the Lady in the Lake. And the Lady would not stop her, desperate for some semblance of family as she was. No one had ever been taken after that day, the day Dani gave her life to save them all. 

But Jamie was not being taken; no, Jamie, she  _ went.  _

The water was high enough now that she would have to swim. One stroke, two. This she could do in her frail body, no matter how hard the journey to Bly had been. There was only one journey left: to the center of the lake, and down.

.

.

.

It was over faster than she expected. Maybe because she was old and weak, or maybe because her mind and body were in alignment that this, this was the end. The water filled her lungs and she gasped, more rushing in even as the air fled out and towards the surface. Her limbs stilled and her eyes fluttered closed on a vision of Dani, still many meters away but so, oh so close, at long last. And when they opened again Dani was within arm’s length. 

Soft fingers brushed her face, smoothing tangles of hair that had twisted and tangled in the water. A touch Jamie was never sure she would feel again, a touch she relished. 

“Jamie,” she said, the bubbles leaving her mouth muffling the pleading note in her voice. “We can’t leave the grounds. You’ll be here with me forever.”

Her rough, callused hand closed around the smooth ones on her cheek. Her other hand reached for Dani, slipping to the back of her head. 

“I reckon that’s enough for me,” she said, pressing their lips together.

.

.

.

The scar tissue on her heart was fading, and to her delight, it did not hurt one whit.


End file.
